Kylie's Kiss
Page 5
Kylie tilted her head and studied him from beneath half-closed eyes. He was either dead serious, or he was good at keeping a straight face. “I don’t believe you.”
He gave her a cocky grin. “Smart girl. If I really believed I were perfect, that in itself would be a character flaw, wouldn’t it?”
“Aha! So you aren’t perfect!”
“Did I say that?”
And so it went, with Rick laughing his way through, around and over a confession, and never really sharing a thing.
Besides scary movies and mountains, they discovered that they both liked animals, though neither of them actually had one at the moment; coffee over soda, alcohol not at all; and neither of them attended church on a regular basis, though both had grown up in Christian homes.
“I do intend to get back to my roots where God is concerned,” Rick told her, and she admired his willingness to discuss the subject without embarrassment. “There was a time when He and I were good friends. I miss that.”
Kylie squirmed. She’d never really gotten into the whole church thing, to her parents’ disappointment. With a guilty little start, she recalled her promise to Destiny. She needed to plan on attending service somewhere this weekend. For now, though, maybe he wouldn’t put her on the spot.
“What about you?” Or maybe he would.
“I, uh—I never really took to it.” She shook her head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I respect Christians. My parents go to church. It’s just not me, I guess.”
A crease appeared on his forehead. “But I thought Solomon’s Gate had some kind of requirement about that.”
She nodded. “I had to promise Destiny I’d attend services every Sunday for the next couple of months. Somewhere.” She shrugged, and Rick laughed.
“Well, that’s certainly not a part of your usual terms of agreement, is it?” He eyed her for a moment then pulled in a breath. “OK, I’ll admit it. We both seem to have made somewhat the same promise.” He paused before adding, “Why don’t we just go together? I’ll pick you up on my way to church Sunday morning, if you’d like.”
“That sounds great. I always dread walking in alone—or on my father’s arm, like a dutiful daughter.”
He chuckled. “I’ll be at your door at nine thirty.”
Kylie sighed as she pulled a nightgown over her head, remembering the conversation. “Well, it’s not exactly a date, but it’s not exactly not a date, either.” She crawled into bed and reached over to switch off the lamp, then grinned into the darkness. “Whatever it is, I’ll take it.”
But when Sunday morning rolled around, she didn’t feel quite so assured. Dad and Mom were less than thrilled that she was visiting a place of worship other than the one they attended. But after a day of thick silence in the house, they’d relented, saying they were glad she was going somewhere.
When Rick parked in front of a plain, smallish white structure, she found herself thinking she really should have gone with her parents. She’d hoped to lose herself in a large congregation, but the little groups of churchgoers standing here and there on the lawn, engaged in pre-service conversation, seemed to indicate that everyone here knew everyone else. Probably just waiting to pounce on a new face. Her stomach tied itself into fifteen different knots, and she gave herself a stern command not to be sick.
“You ready for this?” Rick grinned at her from behind the wheel.
“Huh-uh.” No sense in lying. She was petrified.
He reached out to pat one of the hands she had squeezed into tight fists. “Relax. They’re just people, like you and me. I’ll be beside you the whole time.”
That made one good thing. She managed a shaky smile and nodded. “OK. Let’s do this.”
Rick rounded the cab of the truck and opened her door, then offered his arm as they started toward the entrance. “Smile,” he whispered. “It’s a church, not a gallows.”
She clutched his arm so tight her fingers hurt, then forced herself to ease up a bit. Who knew what she was doing to his skin, thanks to the long nails Dayna had given her?
They were stopped only twice before they reached the door. It wasn’t too unpleasant, really. First a man, then a woman, neither of whom Kylie recognized. Both simply extended a hand—handshakes seemed to be quite the thing here—and expressed a sincere welcome. No questions. No curious stares. No threats of hellfire and brimstone. Not yet, anyway. Kylie assumed that was the preacher’s job.
Someone handed them some kind of bulletin as they passed through the small foyer. Rick indicated a pew at the rear of the church, and Kylie collapsed onto it. Who would have thought legs this shaky could still support a person?
“Hey, look who’s here!”
Kylie’s head snapped up. She was surprised and inordinately pleased to hear Destiny’s voice. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she looked fresh and stunning, just like always. “Scoot over, you two. You don’t mind if we sit with you, do you?” Clay waved over his wife’s shoulder.
“Of course not.” Rick glanced at Kylie. “You’re all right with that, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” They scooted further down the row to make room for the newcomers.
“Rick, why don’t you trade places with Kylie?” Destiny suggested. “She looks like she could use a girlfriend.”
Rick pretended to grumble about not getting to sit between two beautiful ladies, but he squeezed past Kylie’s knees and let her move closer to Destiny, who smiled warmly and patted her hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said, and Kylie decided maybe she’d live through this day, after all.
Clay peeked around his wife to smile at Kylie and Rick. “So am I. Good to have you.” He quirked a brow at Kylie. “Too bad you have to see my ugly mug on the weekend too, as if Monday through Friday isn’t enough.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive.” Kylie shot her boss a shy smile and relaxed against the back of the pew.
“It’s not such an ugly mug, sweetheart,” Destiny teased. “Kylie’ll get used to it.”
Before Clay could say anything else, the organist upped the volume and the choir broke into the familiar notes of Amazing Grace. Kylie recognized the tune from her childhood. She fixed her eyes on the front of the room, a bit surprised to find that same old song still being sung in a modern church setting.
A moment later, she decided it wasn’t a bad idea to use familiar lyrics. From somewhere up front, the minister’s voice broke in between verses. “Sing with us, everyone, as we worship the Lord in song.” Everyone joined in at the chorus, and Kylie found that even she could stumble along, thanks to all the times she’d squirmed through Sunday morning services as a child.
Rick’s rich baritone made her want to shut up and listen. But then he captured her hand, dangling there between them, and gave it a discreet squeeze without missing a note. Kylie’s heart swelled, and her own voice rose a little. It felt pretty good, being in church on a Sunday morning.
And sharing a pew with Rick Dale wasn’t such a bad thing either.
Kylie's Kiss
6
“For heaven’s sake, Dane, would you please get the door?”
Standing outside, Kylie grinned. Dayna’s shouted words came from somewhere at the back of the house. Through the open window, she heard a football game in loud progress on the television. Dane most likely had taken notice of neither the doorbell nor his wife’s irate request. No problem, her friend’s door was rarely locked. She let herself in.
“Never mind, Dane. I got it.”
A commercial break interrupted the action just as the door closed behind her, and Dane Patton unfolded his lanky frame from the sofa to give her a one-armed hug. “Hey, Ky! Man, am I glad you’re here!” He raised the lid on the box of donuts she carried and swiped one without asking. Making a wry face, he cocked his head toward the kitchen, from which Dayna’s irritated voice could still be heard, grousing about her husband’s laid-back attitude and addiction to sports. “Think you can keep her off my back until the game’s over?”
He groaned. “Don’t I know it.” But then his face lit up under a shiny brown dome without a hint of hair. “That’s why I love her. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”
“Ky? Is that you? I’m in the kitchen.” Dayna’s disembodied voice again.
“Be right there.” Kylie set the donuts down while she stripped off her jacket and hung it, along with her purse, on a coat tree in the hall. By the time she turned around, Dane was zoned into the television again, munching on a donut he probably didn’t even taste. For a moment, she stood there grinning at the back of his head as she recalled her friends’ courtship.
Dane showed up at Castle Creek High in Kylie and Dayna’s sophomore year. A senior, he quickly made the local football team. The Creek Indians’ coach knew a good player when he found one, and Dane was good.
He and Dayna were an item from the first time they met. Everyone joked about the popular couple with the twin names who looked enough alike to be brother and sister. But the handsome pair had never let it bother them. Within a few months, they had plans to be married once Dayna graduated high school. And they’d made it a reality exactly one month after her commencement ceremony.
“You coming, girlfriend?” Dayna stuck her head around the corner and motioned for Ky to follow her. “Dane, turn that racket down!” She shrugged, shooting Kylie a look that clearly announced her displeasure. “You’d think that man was deaf as a bat.”
Kylie bit back a burst of laughter. “That’s blind as a bat, Dayna.”
“Well, yeah, that too!” She squeezed Kylie in one of her patented Dayna Patton bear hugs and waggled an arched eyebrow. “Forget my sexy sports fiend. Tell me about Rick. I want to know everything!”
Kylie grimaced. “Cool it, girlfriend. There’s not much to tell. We did go to church this morning.”
“Church?”
She chuckled at her friend’s horrified expression. “Yes, church. Why are you so shocked?”
“Church?” Dayna repeated, obviously unable to wrap her head around it. “Why on earth—?” She dropped into a chair across the table from Kylie. “Church? Really?”
Kylie burst out laughing. “Enough, already! I told you it was part of my agreement with Destiny to attend services for a couple of months. Apparently, Rick got the same quirky contract I did. So we went together.”
“Well…I guess that’s good, at least.” But doubt still laced her words and dubious expression. “Weren’t you bored?”
“No, actually I wasn’t. We both enjoyed the service. Destiny and Clay were there, and they sat with us, so we didn’t feel like such sore thumbs.”
“Oh. Well….” Dayna’s dark eyes still held a hint of puzzlement. “Did you do anything afterward?”
“No. The Gallaghers invited us to go to lunch with them, but Rick had something to do and needed to hurry off. I had him take me by my place—didn’t want to be a fifth-wheel with my boss and his wife. I mean, they’ve only been married a few months.” She sent her friend a mischievous grin.
But Dayna wasn’t playing along. Her eyebrows hiked themselves up to hide beneath the bangs she worked so hard to keep straight and smooth. “He had ‘something to do’? What does that mean?”
“Well, I—I guess it means he had something to do.” Kylie swallowed hard. She’d forgotten to be doubtful of his motives. And her ability to keep his attention. What an innocent goose. “You think it meant something else?”
Dayna got up and crossed the room to pull a couple of mugs out of the open shelves. She hated doors anywhere, only tolerating them when they were necessary for privacy. Setting the mugs on the countertop, she picked up a massive coffee pot, which remained in service almost twenty-four-seven. “Want some?”
A quick glance at the stovetop told Kylie no tea was on the brew, so she nodded. Her friend poured hot liquid into each mug, set them both on the table and gathered sugar and a couple flavors of creamer before sitting down again. And before answering the question.
“Well?” Kylie dumped two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee and added French vanilla, stopping just in time to prevent a mini-volcano. “You’re thinking something. Spill it.”
Her friend sipped at her own drink. Nothing added, just black. “Well, it sounds kind of odd, that’s all. I mean, come on. How many single people do you know who have a really busy schedule on Sunday?”
She gulped down hot liquid, burning her tongue and her throat and providing a good excuse for the dampness in her eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He, uh, he was making excuses to get away?”
Dayna patted her hand, an uncomfortable expression shadowing her face. “I didn’t say that, Ky, and I don’t know. I just wondered. Sounds…I don’t know, strange, that’s all.” She flipped back the lid on the donut box Kylie had placed on the table. “You brought chocolate! You are da bomb, girl! Pig out time.”
Kylie eyed the sweet treats, but shook her head. The man who served her at the The Donut Hole had obviously battled acne at some time in his life. It took a toll on his face, leaving it pitted with tiny scars. Her stomach had turned at the sight, and Kylie almost decided against the purchase. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve really got to work on this figure, so maybe the next guy won’t run away so fast.”
“Now don’t start putting yourself down. You jump right into every opening, girl.” Dayna grabbed one of Kylie’s hands and gave it an affectionate squeeze, pausing to admire the nails as she did so. “You’ve got to stop letting Dylan’s abuse ruin your confidence, Ky. That man ain’t even a man. I can’t believe he did such a number on your self-esteem.”
Kylie shook her head. “This isn’t about Dylan. I haven’t thought about him in a long time, and now that I have, I feel nothing. It doesn’t hurt any more. This is about Rick.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your excitement, and I shouldn’t have said anything. This Rick guy probably really did have something important to do.” She bit into a chocolaty circle and moaned, shoving the box across the table. “Besides, nothing is worth giving these up for. Have one, child. Come on, live a little!”
Forcing a laugh, Kylie snagged one of the pastries and bit into it. A flash of the unfortunate man at the bakery threatened to ruin the pleasure, but she blocked out all thoughts of pock-marked acne scars. “Mmmmm! You’re right, Dayna-Dane. Chocolate makes everything oh-so-right!”
****
Rick crossed the wide lawn on silent feet. A yard or so away, a small girl sat cross-legged in the shade of a huge old elm, a picture book open on her lap, her straight, golden blonde hair pulled over one little shoulder. It swung down past her waist to kiss the thick grass. From his vantage point, Rick drank in the perfect silhouette with its tiny, straight nose and full pink lips. Standing a couple of feet from her, he marveled yet again at the length of the eyelashes that hovered over one soft, round, rosy cheek. In startling contrast to her hair, his daughter’s eyebrows and eyelashes were dark, almost black.
“Hi, honey.” Rick stroked a hand through the silky tresses as he lowered himself down beside her. “I’m home.”
“Daddy!” The child placed a bookmark in her book, closed it, and laid it aside. Only then did she turn to face him, a wide smile brightening her entire countenance. “I missed you.”
Looking full into her face, Rick’s heart clenched with familiar, wrenching pain, and he pulled his daughter into his arms. The perfection of Lea’s right-side silhouette only heightened the effect of the horrible scars on her left cheek. Shiny red welts reached in great, livid fingers from just beneath her left eye—mercifully untouched by the damage—all the way down toward her chin. The damage stopped just before touching the soft rose petals of her lips. The horrid disfigurement tore at Rick’s heart each time he looked at her.
Once again, as so many times before, he reminded himself how lucky he was to still have his little girl. She could have died in tha
t horrible fire. He gripped her tighter, remembering how helpless she’d been, a six-month-old infant, all alone in a cabin in the woods. What had her mother been thinking?
“You’re squeezing me!” Lea’s giggly protest brought him back from the shadowy past, and he loosened his strangling hold.
“Sorry, Sweetie Bird. I love you so much I can’t help myself.”
“I love you too, Daddy Bird.” Lea cocked her head and narrowed her eyes to blue slits. “Where were you? You said you would take me to town today.”
“I went to church. And we are going into town. You ready?”
She jumped to her feet, grabbed one of Rick’s hands and tugged. “Yes, let’s go! I want a banana split, OK?”
Rick stood, grinning. Lea’s love affair with ice cream promised to be ongoing. It might be the only thing she loved more than him. “After we eat lunch, of course you can.”
Hand in hand, they made their way toward the garage. Since it would be his daughter’s first trip into the town proper, he had decided to pull out all the stops and take the sporty little Jag he seldom drove.
Running ahead of him, Lea turned and planted tiny hands on her hips. “Hurry, Daddy! You’re such a slow pokey.”
Rick reluctantly stepped up his lagging pace. The child was right—he was moving like molasses in January, dragging his feet, dreading the familiar scenes awaiting them in town.
It was always the same when strangers first saw his little girl’s disfigured face. While the stares and whispers and pitying glances were hard enough to endure, it was the occasional crude remark that he found most difficult to take. They came from children with no sense of compassion who hadn’t been taught better and from adults who should know better, from elderly folks who’d lost all discretion, and from normally caring individuals simply reacting in shock and surprise.
In their defense, Rick had to admit the stark oppositions of Lea’s visage almost demanded some kind of reaction. On the one side, she was so perfect, with an angelic face that promised to become nothing short of stunning with maturity. On the other were the hideous lumpy scars that transformed that perfection into something out of a nightmare. Rick’s nightmare, one from which he thought he’d never truly awaken.